


Still Bleeding

by tuesday



Series: Pain-sharing [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, M/M, Multi, Not A Fix-It, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22026997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: There was something else Tony could try.  He didn't like it.—In which the original Tony only sends his memories on in The Bleedover Effect and has to deal with the broken time travel super villain universe still existing with him in it.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Tony Stark/Tony Stark, Shuri/Tony Stark, Tony Stark/Tony Stark
Series: Pain-sharing [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1314704
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Still Bleeding

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilery content advisories in the end notes. If you have strong feelings about underage Peter/Tony, you might want to check said notes. If there's anything you're particularly concerned about, as ever, feel free to ask. Also in the end notes: my rough plans for this that will never see fruition.
> 
> If you haven't read The Bleedover Effect, this fic is not going to make any sense to you. This fic mostly started as an excuse to explain one thing I didn't manage to get explicitly on the page in TBE and for self-cest porn. It managed the second thing, at least. For various reasons, I'm accepting that I'm not going to finish this one. I'm posting (most of) what I have for those who are interested, but this installment will never be complete. Nothing that happens in it affects the contents or events of TBE. 
> 
> Personal wip amnesty plan for tomorrow: Fallout: New Vegas crossover/fusion in which Peter is the Courier and Tony is Mr. House.

"Well. Shit." 

It had worked, but it hadn't. A whole new shining universe had opened up, and, in it, Peter wouldn't die, but Tony was trapped here, only his memories passing over. 

There was something else Tony could try. He didn't like it.

Tony snapped again, braiding the timelines and picking out the pattern of the one he preferred, where at least he'd gotten to shoot Thanos in the head. It didn't quite take. There was—there was someone there. In his mind's eye, he could see Peter's face—his Peter, not the one standing confused by a younger, dumber Tony on a planet he'd left behind. Peter was smiling, but there was no joy in it.

"You need a sacrifice," Peter said. "You got that much right."

"No," Tony said.

Peter closed a ghostly hand over the gauntlet's fist. "I don't regret it." Insubstantial lips pressed against Tony's own. "Though I was really looking forward to that eighteenth birthday cake."

Tony didn't snap this time, but the stones cracked. The gauntlet came apart. The timelines came together, steady once more. Tony's mouth was dry. His eyes were wet. A scream he refused to voice pulled at his throat. He stood there, battle raging around him, until Cap's new shield caught him in the chin.

—

"He killed Vision and Wanda both," Steve said hotly.

Tony sat calmly in the Wakandan equivalent of a small office. That or it was a really fancy detention cell and everyone had crowded in to keep him company. He smiled slightly.

"Does this amuse you?" T'Challa asked.

Tony shook his head. "This may be a joke, but there's nothing funny about it."

"Oh?" Where Steve was playing the impassioned hothead, T'Challa was reserved, curious. It was an interesting take on good cop bad cop. "Why don't you tell us about it?"

"Until that gauntlet activated, none of you were even real." Tony rubbed at his mouth. "Now you're the only ones that are. That I can get to, anyway. I have no interest in trying to tear the universe apart a second time."

"I see," T'Challa said, though it was obvious he really, really didn't. Steve just stared at Tony in slowly dawning horror. At least T'Challa was polite enough not to let on that he thought Tony had lost his mind.

Tony decided to do him a favor. "I don't know how far Wakanda has gotten when it comes to space travel, but if it's any real distance, you'll want to send someone to Titan to pick up your older sister."

"I don't have an older sister," T'Challa said.

"You do now." And with that, Tony put his head down on the conference table and ignored them until they went away.

—

Time passed. They moved him to a room with a toilet and a bed. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

Tony lay down on a soft bed in a foreign country and waited to die.

—

Time passed some more. Someone hooked him up to an IV. Tony let it happen.

—

Sometimes people came in to talk at him.

Tony didn't care. If he gave it enough time, they went away. Sometimes they came back, but it was just a matter of waiting them out. Everyone got tired eventually.

Tony was so, so tired.

—

Shuri came in and kicked the bed. "Get up. You're a disgrace. It took me weeks of hard work to get here, and I find out you've been sulking the whole time because your pet theory was wrong."

"Peter was in the Soul Stone," Tony said with a voice gone hoarse with disuse. "I think he shifted into the past when we did."

"We all lost people." Shuri's pressed her lips together. "We lost a whole future. But you know what? The past is still here. We're living it." She kicked the bed again. "Get up. Wash your face. You have visitors, then you're going over everything that happened with the rest of us."

Tony was planning on rolling over and ignoring them like everyone else, no special treatment, when the faces hovering in the doorway resolved into his own and one much more beloved to him.

"Oh," Tony croaked.

"That's what I thought," Shuri said, then glided out of the room with all the grace of a queen.

"Hi, Mr. Stark," and it wasn't Tony's Peter, but Tony loved him all the same. "Can we come in?"

—

Peter held his hand while his counterpart asked a bunch of questions Tony had no intention of answering. He could hear it all at the debriefing with the people Tony actually owed answers to. Tony had to admire the ingenuity of trying to use Peter to bribe him, though.

—

The debriefing went well, for a variation of well that included Natasha looking like she wanted to slit his throat, Bruce turning green with either nausea or rage, and Shuri insisting on breaking down every way it could have possibly gone. There were some other people there, too, but they weren't important.

"You had no idea what you were doing," said one of those unimportant people. "And you have no idea what you've done, the repercussions this will have."

"Shouldn't have entrusted me with the fate of the universe, then." Tony took another sip of water.

"Technically, I didn't."

"Other you's gone twice over, so you get all his blame." Tony smiled mirthlessly. "Ha. You literally have yourself to blame. Besides, even this you sent the Time Stone forward."

"Tell me again," Bruce said, "how you actually thought the most likely option was going to destroy this universe?"

Natasha put a hand on his arm and ushered him out of the room.

"I must say," Shuri smiled, slow and satisfied, "how nice it is to be proven right."

Younger, stupider him spent the whole time staring at Tony with something a little like disappointment and a lot like horror. There were things he just didn't have the life experience necessary to understand. Tony hoped he never would.

—

If Tony were a prisoner, it was one who had free run of the place. Apparently Shuri had convinced them that he wasn't dangerous anymore, though she definitely knew better. Still. It wasn't like he was going to try to destroy the universe twice.

Tony made himself presentable and went to find his counterpart's soulmate.

—

"What'll happen to you?" Peter asked.

"If I'm lucky, I'll fade as this timeline establishes itself more firmly. But it doesn't look like I'll be that lucky. I don't think I've _ever_ been that lucky." Peter looked stricken, eyes wide and shining. "Don't give me that face. I've had a good run. No, actually, I've had a terrible run. I'm ready for it to be over. My soulmate's dead, Peter."

Peter swallowed. "I'm right here."

Tony held up his left arm. Pointedly, he grabbed a small pinch of skin between his fingers and twisted. When he let go, it was bright red. Several of the blood vessels had burst. Peter reached out and ran his fingers over Tony's arm. Gently, Tony reiterated, "He's dead. You are everything I could love in a person, but you're not him."

"Can I hug you?" Peter pulled Tony in. "You look like you could really use a hug."

Tony's soulmate was dead, but he wasn't too proud to take what was in front of him. Peter was warm. He smelled like vanilla and some sort of flowers. Apparently he'd had the chance to shower and change sometime before Shuri used him as impetus and bargaining chip in one. The muscles of his back were firm under Tony's hands. His hair was soft where Tony buried his nose in it.

"There you are," came an unwelcome voice. It sounded weird hearing it from this side.

"Kind of busy here," Tony said. Peter had pressed his face into Tony's neck. Tony's stomach twisted unpleasantly with the knowledge he could never really have this, but he wasn't letting go.

"You'll be okay," Peter said and gave Tony one last squeeze before pulling away.

"I appreciate the thought." Tony ruffled Peter's hair. From the corner of his eye, he could see his counterpart making a sour face that pulled unattractively at his mouth. Tony pointed at him. "Don't you start. You had the chance for as many hugs as you wanted and you squandered it. Hell, I bet Peter would still be open to it."

"Um." Peter looked between the two and took a step closer to his actual soulmate, though Tony knew firsthand that he didn't deserve it. "Yeah, actually."

"If you're quite done." His counterpart put a hand on Peter's shoulder and pulled Peter behind him, but immediately dropped his hand. It would be funny if it weren't so sad. Tony knew intimately and without even a shadow of a doubt that there were no guarantees. Here he was with concrete proof of how easily things could go wrong and there he went putting that dejected expression on his soulmate's face.

"Do you want to know what happened?" Tony didn't want to tell it, but for this Peter, he would. He owed it to his own. "He died. In my arms. Seventeen and never been kissed, but just as dead. Was it worth it, waiting? How do you justify it to yourself? Oh, sure, he's lonely, but at least I can tell the media I never kissed a high school student."

"I've been kissed," Peter said.

Tony's smile softened. "Good for you, sweetheart. You deserve nice things." It hardened as he faced himself again. "You hear that? He doesn't need you."

"If you weren't a grief-stricken lunatic hellbent on his own destruction and everyone around him, you would remember why I'm waiting until he graduates."

"You're waiting until when?" Peter squeaked.

Tony sneered. "You say that, but here's the real answer: you're afraid."

"Of course I'm afraid! You know exactly how precious he is. You think I want to fuck that up because I couldn't keep my dick in my pants for a few years?"

"I think you're already fucking it up," Tony said.

"Did either of you think to ask me?" Peter said.

"Kid, I'm sorry, but the adults are talking here," said the asshole with Tony's face.

Tony's timeline was gone. His soulmate was, too. He didn't think his Peter would hold it against him when he said, "Say the word and you can have me instead."

"Excuse me?" It was almost cute how his younger self puffed up in impotent rage.

"I promise I can tide you over until this idiot comes around."

"You aren't tiding anyone over with anything. You're staying here in Wakanda where you can't hurt anyone else."

Peter's face had gone a fetching pink. "That's, um. That's."

"We're leaving," said younger him, pulling Peter away with him.

Tony blew them both a kiss. The wink was entirely for Peter, though.

He heard Peter say, "No, really, you're waiting until _when_?"

—

He saw Peter one more time before they left. Peter snuck a guilty look his actual soulmate's way, then leaned up and kissed Tony on the cheek. He was entirely too earnest as he said, "I may not be your soulmate, but I know he wouldn't want you to give up, either."

"You're way too good for me," Tony told him. "Either of me."

Peter smoothed a hand over his cheek. "I think you do your best."

And then he left, because Tony had turned his back too many times on what the universe had given him, and it was Peter's turn this time.

—

There was the Wakandan version of a trial, though Tony imagined the average one wasn't presided over by the king. Tony pleaded no contest. Shuri argued exigent circumstances and the fact he'd saved literally half the universe. Natasha had already disappeared with Bruce, but Tony didn't imagine either would have spoken on his behalf.

"I really don't care what you do with me," Tony said.

"Yes." T'Challa's voice was dry. "You've made that clear."

He got some kind of work release program. Wakanda hadn't had a space program before, but they did now, an alien ship Shuri had brought home to her people as a gift and a warning as to what was out there. They were going to tear it apart and put it back together again to see how it worked, maybe make some new ones.

"I know you have experience with this," Shuri said. "And your other self was a quick study."

It wasn't building weapons. It was something to do. Tony didn't care what they did with him, but it was a distraction and an opportunity to make it up to someone. He was used to working with Shuri. This time, he let her direct him.

"You're oddly biddable this way." Shuri accepted a scanner he handed over when she waved for it. "I'm not sure I like it."

"I'm not murdering people anymore. I don't know what else you want from me."

Shuri examined him with sharp, glittering eyes. "I'll let you know what I decide."

—

After a few weeks, his counterpart came to visit. Apparently he'd put in a partial claim to the ship, and T'Challa had let it stand.

"I did half the work getting it here," his counterpart said. "I should get to benefit from it, too."

"A third," Shuri corrected. "The others helped."

"I'm willing to give you two-thirds credit before I'd give the rest of them an equal share."

The two worked well together, clicking easily into place, every motion and action and conversation like a coordinated series of steps taking them forward faster and with far more grace than Tony had alone.

"It's amazing to realize," Shuri said later, "that you were fun once."

Tony knew his other self was waiting for him to protest that he was still fun. He picked up another tool and said, "I outgrew that."

Later yet, he overheard them talking. "You really weren't kidding. If anything, you undersold it."

"Guard your heart, Mr. Stark. For all that it walks outside your body and can defend itself, it's vulnerable, and so are you. This world couldn't take two of him."

"I'd offer to take him off your hands, but—"

"Yes, well. He does have his charms."

"He does, doesn't he?"

Tony turned around and walked away.

—

His counterpart showed up at his doorstep later that evening. It was a different room than before, but Tony didn't care any more for it than his first one. It was a place to go back to each night to lie down and not sleep. There was a bed and a bathroom attached. He didn't need anything more than that.

"I brought you something." He thrust the tablet right into Tony's hands. "Pictures. Videos. Mom, Dad, Rhodey, Jarvis, the works."

Tony knew he shouldn't ask, but he couldn't help putting on a smile practically guaranteed to get its recipient's back up as he said, "And Peter?"

"He's _in high school_ ," his other self insisted.

"And already older than mine ever managed to be." Tony put the tablet on his bare nightstand. "You could've sent that in the mail or given it to any of the lackeys running around out there. It's a palace. There are a lot of them. Any particular reason you're dropping by? Got your head out of your ass and now you're here to secure a third for a 'Sorry I made you wait' threesome? Not going to lie, I'd be up for it."

"You are shameless and relentless, and it is almost as annoying as it is attractive."

Attractive? "Huh." 

Tony took a closer look at what was happening here, tuning back in for the first time since he'd let himself be carried away thinking about engine design early that afternoon. His other self was oddly well-groomed for someone who'd spent the majority of the day clambering around in the guts of a spaceship. He was wearing a Tom Ford three piece. His hair was perfectly coiffed. His goatee was combed. He smelled like body wash and the cologne he liked to use when he was hoping to get laid. He raised his eyebrows expectantly at Tony's once over. 

"And Peter's okay with this?"

His younger self smiled, and it took another ten years off. "Pretty sure he wants pictures, but he's not getting any, either." He popped the button on his jacket. "There's something you can have, though, if you want it." His smile was sharp. "And I'm pretty sure you do."

Tony didn't bother to pretend he hadn't already considered it and decided yes, please, even if the guy was an overconfident asshole. "Yeah, okay. But just so you know, that offer's open-ended. Any time. Get him something nice for his eighteenth birthday."

His counterpart shut Tony up with his mouth. The goatee tickled a little where it brushed against Tony's lips. He decided he was into it. He put a stop to the kissing long enough to shrug out of his shirt. His counterpart watched him strip with equal parts prurient interest and personal curiosity. He traced a scar on Tony's shoulder.

"Where'd you pick this up?"

"Cap—my Cap."

"You guys fought again? What, did he somehow pull out a second set of parental murders he was hiding from me?" Tony smiled at the question; at least, his lips pulled back. "Oh, no, I am beginning to dread that particular expression. I don't want to know, do I?"

"Probably not." Tony kissed his jaw. "Not really pillow talk, anyway."

Tony undid a number of tiny buttons and kissed a shoulder less scarred than his own. He licked, then bit down. He untucked an undershirt and undid a belt. He sank to his knees and pulled dress pants and underwear both down with him as he went. 

He was rewarded with hands in his hair and the words, "You look good down there, but I've got to say, I feel a little bit like I'm taking advantage of you."

"You know exactly how much I like this."

"Yeah, but this is usually the point where I go for a condom. Not sure what kind of head space you're in here."

"You're me." Pointedly, Tony stroked him just the way he knew he liked it.

"You're from literal years in the future."

Tony couldn't pretend the expression that graced his face was a smile this time. "Yeah, well. After Peter, let's just say I wasn't really feeling it."

"That's a long time to go without letting anyone touch you."

"I'm touching you right now."

"Going to let me return the favor?"

Tony was done talking about this. He was rusty, but the mechanics were simple enough, and he was starting with a cheatsheet of his subject's favorite things. Even when he choked himself, he knew that wasn't quite a turn-off. He'd always appreciated enthusiasm.

"It's not a race." Hands petted at his hair. "I'm not going anywhere."

Tony snorted. You'd think he'd have the courtesy not to lie so blatantly to himself. He pinched a thigh in retaliation and relaxed his throat to try again.

"I really hope this isn't what my past partners had to put up with. I'd hate to have to write so many apology letters."

Tony rasped out, "I'm having to put up with you right now," before he got back to it.

"I'll apologize when you do." Tony scratched the backs of his thighs and got a strangled groan in reward. "Glad to see the future hasn't stamped all the spirit out of you." It was terrible, but Tony was honestly tempted to bite him. "Huh. Hit a sore spot?" Tony got a minute of welcome silence, except the breathy little noises he got in reward every time he took himself deep again. Then, "Fuck, why didn't anyone warn me how hot I am when I'm pissed off? Pull back, I need a minute."

Tony pulled back, switched over to sucking marks a little too hard into his counterpart's hips.

"Really not helping there." Tony bit where the bone jutted out and watched his counterpart's dick twitch even as he swore. "I only have myself to blame here."

Tony licked where he'd bitten. "I already made that joke." 

His counterpart's smile was oddly sweet, his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Yeah, but Strange didn't appreciate it the way we do."

"So was there something else you wanted here? I'm up for getting fucked if you're up for doing the fucking." Tony trailed his fingers up the length of his counterpart's dick, still wet from Tony's mouth. "And you look like you're up for it."

His counterpart gave Tony a slow once over, lingering on his swollen lips and the erection trapped in his jeans. "You seem a bit overdressed for it."

"We can fix that." Tony stripped efficiently, without care for the reveal, but his counterpart watched with hungry eyes, licking his lips when Tony tucked his thumbs into the elastic waist of his boxer briefs and shucked them off. Tony hadn't needed the confirmation that he really was that vain, but the open appreciation was flattering. Tony flopped naked onto the bed. "Well? I can't do everything by myself."

His counterpart shook his head, but he shrugged off his jacket, then his open shirt. He flexed—was Tony ever that unsubtle?—as he pulled off his undershirt. He took his time, made a show of it. His dick was already out, but he toed off his shoes and pulled his pants off slowly. He turned to present Tony with his, okay, frankly fantastic ass when he bent over to take off his socks. When he was done, he pulled a small bottle of lubricant and a condom from his jacket pocket and practically strutted up to the bed.

"Confident, were you?" Tony asked dryly.

"Prepared." Good thing, because whoever stocked Tony's room definitely hadn't done so with the thought in mind that Tony might want to have sex with himself when he came to visit. His counterpart's preparation meant he got a slick finger sliding between his ass cheeks, rubbing, but not yet pressing in. "So you haven't fucked anyone in a while, but when was the last time you did this to yourself?"

Tony rested his head in his arms, face down and forehead pressed against his forearms. He spread his legs encouragingly and was reward with the first finger, a slow slide in, then out. "A while. I wasn't really feeling that, either."

"Tell me you at least jerked off."

"Why? Would picturing me ugly crying and trying and failing to come actually put you in the mood here?"

"You are incredibly depressing." It burned as the second finger breached him. Distantly, Tony thought that didn't bode well. The sudden introduction of more lube was cold. He was being fucked slowly, no real attempt to find his prostate, just letting his body adjust, open up. "Are you even into this right now, or are you just being accommodating?"

"When have you ever known me to be accommodating?"

"See, that's the thing." The fingers withdrew, and Tony was empty, aching with it. "I don't know you at all."

Tony laughed, a little bit bitter, but he couldn't help the sound. "That's fair."

He felt a kiss pressed to his shoulder. "Nothing about this is fair. C'mon, I need you to look at me. Tell me you actually want this or I'm going home."

"That'll be a long commute for you tomorrow," Tony said, but he obediently lifted his head and met his counterpart's concerned stare. "I'd much rather you stay."

"Okay." It was said softly. The compassion in his counterpart's eyes burned. "I'll stay."

Tony got a kiss from an awkward angle and both fingers buried in his ass. Eventually, he got a third. His counterpart went heavy on the lube. When he removed his fingers this time, he replaced them with his dick, blunt, but sliding in slowly. His counterpart's hands were bruising at his hips. He was chanting obscenities as he fully seated himself.

It occurred to Tony that this was his first time barebacking, and he couldn't stop the almost hysterical laughter that he was giving himself something he'd thought would be reserved for his soulmate alone. The laughter cut off as it occurred to him that he was taking something, too.

"Really not convincing me that you're okay, here," his counterpart said, but he didn't pull out.

"Were we saving this for Peter?" Tony asked. "The thing is, I can't remember. There's so much I can't remember any more."

His counterpart took up the thread of the conversation quickly, no need for an explanation or clarification. "Well, I don't know about you, but I was trying to avoid contracting any inconvenient STDs."

"It would've been nice to give this to Peter, though, wouldn't it?"

"I really don't think he'd care."

Tony pressed his face into his arms as his counterpart pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. His counterpart was unfortunately all too correct. Tony's Peter wouldn't care. He couldn't. He'd never care about anything again.

"Fuck." The obscenity had nothing to do with pleasure this time. Arms wrapped Tony, holding him close. "I didn't—you're all sore spots, aren't you? You're scraped raw."

"I'd rather be numb."

"Because that was working out well for you." Tony felt another kiss against his neck. Said with real regret, "We should probably stop."

"Nah. You should definitely keep going." Tony knew it was a bad idea, but sometimes someone else also willing was all it took for him to decide to see one through. 

That must've been the case now, because when his counterpart withdrew, it was only to snap his hips and drive back in. Tony clenched his hands in the sheets. It was—it was good. It had been too long, and even with the stretching, he was too tight. He knew he'd be feeling this for days. But it was good. He was full, opened up and opening up further, body adjusting, relearning how to do this. He found himself rocking back into each thrust, meeting it, encouraging it. His counterpart knew what he was doing. Tony didn't think he could come like this, but it was nice, took him out of his head a little. 

His world filtered down to sensations. The cotton under his hands. The hands at his hips. The fullness matched by the withdrawal, but never left empty for long. Lips pressed against his neck and shoulders. Teeth dug in, and it was so, so good.

The angle changed, and he couldn't help the bitten off cry, the jolt and the shudder as everything hit just right. A hand reached for his dick, and he pushed it away, shaking his head. 

In gasping breaths, he managed to explain, "Too much."

It was all too much, his face wet and his chest tight.

A voice at his ear said, "You make it really hard to take care of you."

"Then don't," Tony said shortly.

"Someone ought to." His counterpart nuzzled at his neck. "I want to. Let it be me."

Tony hated the thought that he was just another thing to be managed. He shook his head again.

"I want to," his counterpart repeated. Hands petted at Tony's hips. "Let me. Let go. I'll catch you."

Tony was tired. He didn't want to be caught, would rather just hit the ground.

"Please." Lips brushed against his skin. "Please."

Hesitantly, not really feeling it, Tony nodded. A hand crept from his hip to his dick, intentions clear and slow enough to stop. It closed around him, gentle, gentle. A miserable sound was torn from his throat at the first tug.

"That's it. I've got you."

Fuck. Tony couldn't help the next sob, either, crying in earnest now as he was taken apart one stroke and thrust at a time, torn between two points and flying apart. He said, a denial, a warning, "I can't. I can't—"

"You're okay. You've got this. I've got you." 

Something that had been building in Tony broke. He broke with it.

When it was over, his counterpart bundled Tony into his arms, settled on his lap, making shushing noises and smoothing his hands up and down Tony's spine. He'd slipped out, and his dick was pressed hard and slick against Tony's thigh. He didn't seem too concerned, though, running his left hand up into Tony's hair to rub at his scalp.

"Do you want—?" Tony offered.

"Maybe later." It was firm, final.

Tony slumped against the chest in front of him. The cuddling continued. He was starting to get cold as the sweat on his body cooled. 

"You get that I murdered Vision, right? You didn't somehow miss it in all the excitement of space travel and magic and having a soulmate who actually lived through Titan?"

"Yeah, I got that. And I'll never forgive you for it. But I don't think you'll ever forgive yourself, either. Right now, you can carry that grudge for the both of us."

"You can't fix me," Tony said.

"Yeah. I got that, too."

But he did stay. Tony tried not to take too much comfort from that.

—

In the morning, his counterpart left, but not before pushing Tony into the mattress and taking him apart, kissing and licking everywhere but where Tony wanted him, then sucking him into his mouth until Tony was a twitching, oversensitized mess. 

"You know I can't get hard again," Tony said.

He was given a reprieve only long enough for his counterpart to say, "And I know you still like it."

This time, he let Tony return the favor after he was finally done. Tony was pliant, relaxed, as his counterpart used his mouth, hands tight in his hair as he fucked Tony's face, sliding into his throat. 

Tony's voice was a wreck when he went down to breakfast, but that was fine. There wasn't anyone he needed to talk to anyway.

"You look like you were mauled," Shuri said when they got back to work on the ship.

Tony hummed as he pried an access panel open. "Turns out I'm still a little fun."

"He's underselling it," his counterpart promised. On his next pass to get another tool, he pinched Tony's ass. He told Shuri, "I highly recommend giving it a go."

Shuri said, "I'll consider it."

When Tony stared at her, she smiled and held out her hand. He passed her the scanner and watched, thoughtful, as she half crawled into the guts of the ship.

—

"So I'm only here for one more day," Tony's counterpart told him at the end of the work day, after Shuri and T'Challa's people shooed them out, because apparently Wakanda had its own version of OSHA and was ridiculously strict about it. "Did you want to get dinner or—"

"Just come up to my room when you're ready," Tony interrupted him. "Don't forget the lube."

"The romance is dead." He was smiling, though, and he showed up later that evening, so he couldn't have been that offended.

Tony had stripped down to his boxers and was sprawled out in bed, tablet on his chest. He was getting some design work done, but he put it down when his visitor let himself in.

"Do you always leave the door unlocked when you're naked these days?" There was a pointed click of the door locking.

"You're the only one who'd visit me. And I'm not naked yet." Tony rectified that, hooking his thumbs in the elastic waistband of his underwear and shucking it perfunctorily. "Going to stand there all day, or are you going to come fuck me?"

His counterpart loosened his tie. "I'm not sure why I bothered dressing up for this."

"Undressing is what's needed here." Tony spread his legs. "Though who am I to tell you what to do? None of my business if you want to ruin your suit."

"Tempting." But he stripped, folding the suit carefully over a chair where it was less likely to wrinkle.

They fucked face to face this time, sweet, gentle, slow rocking of the hips paired with lazy kisses. When Tony started crying this time, they didn't stop. Tony pressed his face into an unscarred shoulder and shook apart. His counterpart fucked him through it and kept going.

"If I could, I'd keep you just like this," he said, voice quiet, contemplative. "I'd keep you full and unable to overthink, just endless sensation."

Tony shuddered, oversensitive where his dick was trapped between their bodies.

"Maybe you could actually be happy this way." Lips brushed against Tony's neck. "I'm sorry." They trailed up his cheek, his jaw, pressed firm against his temple. "I'm sorry I can't fix this for you."

"It's not your job to fix me." Tony clenched around the dick in his ass. "And I'm pretty well past the point of being broken, so stop treating me like I'm fragile and _fuck me_."

But his counterpart didn't speed up, kept that same slow, gentle pace until the very end. After, he rained soft kisses on Tony's face, falling on his brow, his cheeks, the angle of his jaw and the slope of his nose.

"You are annoyingly contrary," Tony said.

"Oh, no, I'm following orders." His counterpart planted one last kiss on Tony's mouth. "Peter asked me to take care of you while I was here."

"You, of all people, do not get to use him against me." Tony pushed him off, sitting up with a wince. He could feel semen dripping out of his ass and was discovering another reason to use condoms. It wasn't a sensation he wanted to get used to. Then again, it wasn't like this was going to happen again any time soon, wasn't something he _could_ get used to. "I'm fine."

"Yeah. You look perfectly fine, not at all like someone who looks like they haven't slept in years." Fingers ran through Tony's hair. "Tell me a more believable lie."

"I don't want you here." Lips pressed against the corner of Tony's jaw. "It'll be a relief to be alone again." Tony closed his eyes as arms closed around him. "That's all I want. To be alone."

"You've gotten bad at lying in your dotage."

"And you've always sucked at comfort."

Hands stroked down Tony's back, and he leaned in. He only got this one last night. He'd take what he could get.

—

Morning came. Tony's counterpart left. The world kept spinning.

As before, Tony was along for the ride.

—

Three months into their exile in the past, in the cockpit of a half-rebuilt alien space ship, Shuri leaned over and kissed Tony on the mouth. She hummed as she pulled back.

"Maybe you could be fun," she said.

"Who just—who just kisses people like that?" Tony asked, unfreezing.

"I understand you used to do it all the time." Shuri gestured. "Now hand me that scanner. I want to see what this does when we turn it on."

Tony handed Shuri the scanner. She turned everything on. Nothing blew up.

"I'd say this is cause for celebration, wouldn't you?" Shuri's smile was terrifyingly confident, mischievous and playful. It invited Tony to share in the joke.

"Your brother is going to kill me," Tony said. It wasn't a no.

"Let me worry about my brother." Shuri pushed Tony into a chair. "You can worry about not falling for someone who's smarter, prettier, and much more devastating than you."

Tony put his hands on her hips. "You're not my soulmate."

"And you're not mine." Shuri's smile was sadder now. She traced the line of his jaw. "But we could have fun together, and I deserve something nice."

"Not sure when's the last time someone called me nice."

Shuri's smile went wicked. "I didn't call _you_ nice."

Tony gave in. What followed was very nice indeed.

—

Natasha showed back up. It wasn't to kill him.

"Tony." Natasha poked him on the sternum, where the arc reactor and nanite casing were hidden. "I'm not mad at what you did. I'm mad you didn't tell me."

"Next time I plan to unmake the universe in favor of one where none of this ever happened, I'll let you know that I think that's what I'm doing."

Instead of calling him on his flippant tone, Natasha smiled briefly, grimly. "Good."

She didn't stick around. Then again, that wasn't something people did. Not for Tony. Not anymore.

Even Shuri treated him like a particularly convenient booty call.

—

Tony had looked up Peter's graduation. He called in a favor with Shuri and spent the day of commencement blind drunk in his room. She gave him the bottles of Wakandan rotgut—"I'm not giving you anything that would be wasted on you," she said—and left him there, sitting on the floor and looking through the pictures on his tablet. 

He'd found some old high school photos of Peter online, and it was a mistake.

It was a mistake.

Tony traced Peter's face on the screen. "How could you do this to me twice?" Tony closed his eyes, swallowed hard. "How could I fail you a second time?" His eyes burned. "We were supposed to have more time."

Somewhere halfway across the world, a Peter and a Tony were about to embark on their happily ever after. In this small room in Wakanda, Tony dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and tried to be happy for them.

As always, all his efforts weren't enough.

—

"Tell me you aren't backsliding," Shuri said the next morning.

"I'm not backsliding," Tony said obediently.

"Get out of bed."

"I _am_ hungover."

"And you brought that on yourself."

"Shouldn't you be nicer to me? We're sleeping together, and I had a very bad day yesterday."

"You don't need someone to be nice to you. You need a friend who will hold you accountable." Shuri was merciless. She stole his covers, then his pillows. "Get up."

Tony got up. As he hunted down a fresh shirt, he asked, "Are we?" He found one that wasn't too wrinkled. "Friends, I mean?"

Shuri rolled her eyes. "Do you see me doing this for anyone else? Yes, we're friends. You're probably the best friend I can actually call _mine_."

"Oh."

Shuri tossed him a pair of slacks. "Get dressed. We have work to do."

"Huh." Tony got dressed. He got back to work.

—

Peter's eighteenth came and went. Shuri held his hair while he threw up this time.

"You can return the favor if ever I choose such poor coping methods." Shuri wrinkled her nose. "Though personally, I'd choose therapy any time."

"I need a haircut," Tony said as she pulled a lock out of his eyes.

"Don't you dare."

Tony went back to drinking to wash the taste out of his mouth. Shuri sighed and kept him company despite practically radiating disapproval.

Tony drank enough to finally ask, "Who was yours?"

"Does it matter?" Shuri shook her head. "They're not mine any more."

Tony lifted his bottle in salute.

They sat on the floor, knees pressed together. Tony said, "I think we should stop."

"Oh?" Shuri said in the same tone she'd used when Tony had rambled for an hour about sub-lightspeed engines.

"In another world, I could fall in love with you."

"Oh." Tony couldn't read her tone this time.

"But it can't be this one."

Shuri pulled Tony's head to her shoulder. Her nails scratched gently against his scalp. "Why not?"

"Because," Tony said. "Because." He couldn't say, _I can't do this again_.

He woke up alone on his bedroom floor, cover tucked around him.

—

They stayed friends. 

Shuri had never been in any danger of falling. Her feet were steady, planted firmly on the ground.

—

When they started on their first new ship, the younger Tony Stark showed up, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, soulmate in tow. Tony dropped a toolbox on his foot.

"Ow," Tony said.

"I thought I warned you," Shuri said.

"You said _he'd_ be here," Tony said. "You didn't say anything about him bringing company."

"They're inseparable at this point." Shuri looked apologetic.

Tony looked down. "It's fine."

It wasn't fine. When they were in range, Peter threw his arms around Tony like they were old friends long separated. Tony couldn't contain the little sound he made at that, feeling like it was punched out of him. His counterpart was much more circumspect, reaching out for a handshake that lingered.

He smiled warmly. He could afford to be magnanimous. "We're here for the week." His gaze went to where Peter had an arm over Tony's shoulder. "It'll be like a vacation."

Peter's thumb stroked the back of Tony's neck, hidden by the fall of his hair, but Tony knew his counterpart hadn't missed a thing. His smile was sharp as Peter said, voice bright, "We've been looking forward to it."

—

That night and every night that week, he ended up sandwiched between them. It was wonderful; it was terrible. Every second of it cut deep.

When they left, they took part of him with them.

—

Tony started a new project. Shuri had a lab and she let him use it on the hours they had off.

"I don't know if I'm happy to see you taking an interest in the world again," Shuri said, "or mad that it took a threeway with your other self's soulmate."

"Be whatever you like, but two feet to the left. You're blocking my light."

Instead, Shuri loomed closer. "Hm."

"Alright. Lay it on me. Judgmental comments, go."

"No judgment." Shuri shook her head. "That's a long way to run, but I don't blame you."

"Who says I'm running?"

Shuri's smile was patronizing, pitying. "I don't think you've stopped since Thanos."

That was fair. Didn't mean Tony wanted to hear it, though.

—

Look, it was on the list, okay? If Tony could have done anything, if he hadn't had to take over his dad's company, if there'd been no terrorists and no Thanos and no personal mistakes to fix or existential threats to face, if Tony was just your average genius capable of technological marvels others could only dream of, then space travel was only the start. The game didn't really get going until you actually lived there.

There was another Tony to take on the responsibilities of his life. He got the benefits, too. This Tony had nothing but his memories and the wreckage of his dreams. Maybe there was something there to be salvaged. He'd lived thirty years without a soulmate. Peter wouldn't want him to give up. Time to find a way to live thirty more.

Terraforming Mars would be step one.

**Author's Note:**

> Content advisories: everything in the original, mental health issues, murder, an attempt to destroy the universe in favor of a new one, permanent character death of hero characters (Wanda, Vision, original version Peter), minor/adult soulmates, age gaps, the Tony who lost his Peter seriously flirting with the past/new-present Peter very soon after an overwritten Snap and pushing the Tony who still has a soulmate to start a relationship with his now, the other Tony explicitly waiting for his soulmate to graduate high school before exploring anything (per TBE), sex as a bad coping mechanism, alcohol use as a bad coping mechanism.
> 
> Rough plans for this which I hadn't gotten to yet: more space travel, Mars colony, more P/T/T, reveal that Shuri's soulmate is/was Okoye (who was not interested in a romantic relationship, but did teach Shuri to use the spear and had a very warm, close relationship with her, and whose own personal spear was the one Shuri brought along to kill Thanos; yes, that spear is the extent of what I ever managed to get on page of this), time travel Shuri and time travel Tony giving it another go, but seriously this time, and probably ending up end-game, and everyone still alive either ends up in a happily ever after or at the point where they're learning to live with themselves and what they've done, this time knowing they wouldn't do it all the same again.


End file.
